Pop Vultures

Here is what you won’t get from watching Monday’s US premiere of The Secret Diary of a Call Girl: a thoughtful exploration of sexual or feminist politics in regards to prostitution, or a sociological inquiry into the class disparity between prostitutes and their johns and the accompanying power dynamic. It ain’t there. You won’t even get particularly good sex tips, unless you are surprised to learn that men tend to like dirty talk, lacy black underwear and fellatio. The show has its charm, but in no way does it serve as an instructional text.

What it is, however, is a light-hearted bit of fluff with some clever writing and very pretty people, and if you don’t mind that the show glosses over some fairly loaded issues, you will likely enjoy yourself.

For a show that seeks to be a bit risqué and show an unfamiliar reality, it actually delves far more into a fantasy world – and I’m not talking about the sort that involves naughty schoolgirls and a strict headmaster. No, this world features an exciting, glamorous London, one that seems to altogether lack a working class or, for that matter, dirt. The city is beautifully shot, all gleaming white buildings and red buses and swanky bars, making the show an anglophile’s dream (considering the topic, I really want to write “wet dream,” but I’m attempting to be a bit classy here). In this world, the prostitutes are safe and protected, and Belle, the titular call girl, does the job simply because she likes sex and money. In fact, she makes sure to tell us in the first few minutes that she was not abused or addicted to drugs or anything upsetting like that – she just really likes sex. Now, my exposure to high class prostitution is fairly limited, I must confess, so perhaps she’s expressing a common attitude. Maybe not. The end result is the same: by establishing that her profession is a choice, the audience is free from any guilt they might feel about so thoroughly enjoying her sordid little tales.

And there is a fair amount to enjoy. As Belle, Billie Piper is engaging, and her confessions, delivered to the camera (and therefore to the audience) always suggest a conspiratorial wink, inviting us along on her tawdry journey. We are, for the most part, happy to accompany her. The show is, at best, mildly titillating, with little you wouldn’t see on an average episode of Sex & the City, and so its appeal mostly relies on Piper’s charm and the script’s wit, both of which are fortunately spread liberally throughout each episode.

The show’s reliance on style over substance, however, may be one of its weaknesses, as despite being Belle’s confidantes, we really don’t know the woman at all. The woman is a mystery, and her insistence on keeping Hannah, her non-prostitute self, completely separate from her work means that we are kept separate from her as well, and the real story seems to lie with Hannah. Belle’s adventures are a bit of light fun, so long as you don’t think too much about the meaning behind them. Hannah, however, is the one who might give those stories meaning, and she often seems silent. There is one brief scene in the third episode in which Belle is maybe, perhaps, crying in the shower, and the scene is a powerful contrast to all her assertions that she’s having fun. If the series can actually explore that issue, it will have achieved the rare feat of producing a thoughtful bit of fluff. The fact that the show makes me wish for more suggests that it has some unexplored depths – and I do hope that it starts exploring.

I guess, in the end, I do want a thoughtful piece on sexual or feminist politics. However, even if we never get that, I’m still going to enjoy watching. Sometimes being shallow is a whole lot of fun.

Secret Diaries of a Call Girl has its US premiere on Showtime June 16 at 10:30, or you can catch the first two episodes online.